


Where Were You?

by jungle_ride



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/pseuds/jungle_ride
Summary: The knock at the door comes as a bit of a surprise, it is 3:00 am after all.Emma confronts Neal over the past. Complete AU canon divergence (canon? what canon?)
Relationships: Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Where Were You?

**Author's Note:**

> Finally getting around to sorting and uploading my work from livejounral over to here.

The knock at the door comes as a bit of a surprise, it is 3:00 am after all. Neal switches on the bedside lamp and blinks back sleep, eyes struggling to stay in focus. Another loud knock forces him back into reality. This had better be important, he vaguely thinks, as another flurry of knocks punch through the silence. Sighing he rolls out of bed, making for the door as quick as he can in his sleepy haze. At this rate, whoever was behind the door, was going to wake everyone up. Neal really didn’t want to deal with a disgruntled Widow Lucas, the woman had a crossbow and she wasn’t afraid to use it.  
  
“What?” Neal asks abruptly, tone full of irritation, as the door swings open. Neal has just enough time to register Emma’s determined and fiercely pissed off expression, before she’s shouting at him.  
  
“Where were you?” Emma's voice is so loud that Neal's eyes automatically dart into the hallway, anxiously on the look out of a glint of metal in an older ladies hands. Thankfully there was no sign of Widow Lucas, or anyone for that matter. 

"Where were you?" Emma practically screams into his face. There’s the faint smell of alcohol drifting off her.  
  
“What?” Neal replies dumbfounded, unable to process what exactly was happening.   
  
“Where. Were. You?” Emma emphasizes each word with a sharp prod of her finger into his bare chest, Neal's pretty sure he's going to have bruises there later. The sheer force of the motion forces Neal backwards into the hotel room. Ok then, nice to see you too, Neal vaguely thinks as he stumbles backwards. Not taking her eyes off him, Emma uses her foot to shut, well more like slam, the door closed behind her. She does it with such purpose, a dangerous glint in her eyes that it's only then that Neal remembers his ability to from words.   
  
“Emma I really don’t...” Neal begins, his confusion evident.   
  
“I went to _Tallahassee_.” Emma spits the word into his face, voice full of venom and _yeah_ she’s definitely been drinking.

For over a decade the word Tallahassee has caused Neal's stomach to twist and turn into knots, hearing it from Emma lips was even worse. His chest tightens and his mouth suddenly becomes as dry as a desert. It takes Neal a second to fully process the meaning of what Emma has just said, when it finally sinks in, it’s like a hitting a brick wall at 100 mph. He feels gutted, as if Emma has just split him wide open and shoved salt into the gaping wound.  
  
“Wha...you…you……” Neal stammers dumbly, his ability to form words fading rapidly.

“Why?” he finally chokes out breathlessly.

The flat of Emma's palm is now resting against his chest, her fingernails ever so slightly digging into skin, leaving half crescent moon indents. Neal's heart is pounding so hard in his chest, he thinks Emma must surely feel it. If she does, she gives no indication. Anger is still creasing her forehead into deep lines, but her eyes begin to widen, as if she too has just realised what she’s admitted to. For a moment Neal thinks she’s going to run, the thought causes his heart to lurch. Without thinking he grips her wrist tightly, desperation surging through his veins.   
  
“ _Why?_ ” He asks again, desperate in a way he has no right to be. She doesn’t have to tell him anything, he vetoed those rights years ago. Emma stares at him for what seems like an age, her eyes searching his frantically, before finally she lowers her gaze and draws her bottom lip through her teeth.  
  
“I went looking for you.” she confesses so quietly that it barely passes for a whisper. A wave of both hope and despair flows through Neal, a strange mixture of feelings that sends his stomach into spasms. He’d hoped so many times over the years that she’d find him, and yet he’d been scared, _petrified_ that she, or his father, actually would.  
  
“ _Em._ ” He breathes softly, in a way he hasn’t in years; not since they’d been in a bed, or more often that not, the back seat of a car, with tangled limbs and breathless bodies. Back then he’d been too blissed out, too consumed in contented happiness, to bother with both syllables of her name. Emma's head snaps back up at the old familiarity, eyes locking onto his. Neal wonders briefly if she’s remembering all those times too.   
  
“Where were you?” Emma asks once more. The anger has disappeared, replaced with something much rawer. A hurt that ran deep.

 _"Where were you?"_ There’s so much more to the question she asking, a thousand other hidden ones, concealed between the 3 syllables. Neal hears all of them. Letting go of her wrist, he gently sweeps back the disheveled hair that had fallen across her face earlier, grateful when Emma doesn’t pull away. Emma's hand slips from his chest to his waist of its own accord, fingers gripping the waist band of his pajama pants.

“Where _were_ you?” she’s choking back tears now, desperately struggling to keep herself in check, to hold the stranded seventeen year old she'd been back. A decade of hurt is bubbling under the surface, no longer able to stay suppressed. Neal watches, transfixed, as a thousand emotions flicker and dance across her face. He wonders if his own expressions are matching hers, for inside he feels just as wrung out. Just as trapped between the years. 

"Where were you?" she half sobs, a stray tear falling from her eye and trailing down her cheek. Neal can't help himself, without thinking he reaches up and gently cups her face in his hands. Wiping away the tear with his thumb, he dips down a little forcing her to meet his gaze. 

“I was lost.” He admits on a sigh. It’s the only answer he can give, the only one that will answer all the rest.   
  
“Lost.” Emma repeats, searching his eyes for a lie that can't be found. This is the most truthful thing he's said to her since their reunion. Emma takes several deep breaths, her hands coming up to grip his wrists tightly, as her eyes flutter shut. 

"Lost." she whispers in understanding, her breathe caressing his face. Neal grabs the moment with both hands knowing it might not last, and desperate for it to. Pulling her face closer he rests his forehead gently against hers, closing his eyes and breathing her in. This is the closet they’ve been since, since _before_ and it’s everything and nothing like it had been.   
  
“Lost.” Neal says again and there’s his own hidden question in that. Emma hears it and sighs, pressing her forehead into his. She doesn’t say anything but Neal thinks he can hear her answer all the same.  
  
_Found._


End file.
